


My Old School

by AlleiraDayne



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Cars, College AU, Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Gear Heads, Grease Monkeys, Mechanical Engineers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 01:57:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21402286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: Dean meets Elizabeth on the Chicago University campus.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Elizabeth Andersson, Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	My Old School

**Author's Note:**

> For SPN Fluff Bingo 2019, this fills the square College AU.

“Alright, project proposals are due next week,” the professor started. “If you have a vehicle of your own you’d like to work on, that’s perfect. Otherwise, we have project cars you can pick from. Everyone gets their own. You’ll be working solo. See you next week.”

Dean hefted his bag over his shoulder and shuffled from his desk. Last to leave, he approached the classroom door and took a step over the threshold only to run solidly into another person as she barreled right through him.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” the woman said as she whirled about. “Are you okay?”

When Dean looked to her, the entire world stopped. So blonde. And Tall. With big hazel eyes, a prominent nose, and full lips, she stared at him as Dean tried to think. At first, he assumed her lost in the wrong building of Chicago’s labyrinthine campus. But his eyes darted to her fingers to find them stained black and brown, and her coveralls hung on her hips, half-zipped and full of grease and brake dust.

She was a mechanics student. Just like him.

“Winchester?”

Dean’s eyes snapped to his professor’s desk. “Yes, sir?”

“The lady asked you a question,” he said.

Dean shook his head. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine,” he said as he held out his hand. “Dean.”

“Winchester?” she asked with a smirk as she took his hand and squeezed.

“Yeah,” Dean chanced another look at his professor. “You’re… I haven’t seen you in class yet.”

“Elizabeth,” she said as she released his hand. “And you wouldn’t. I’m a junior.”

Older? Dean liked older women. “Elizabeth,” he repeated. “You busy?”

“Winchester! I have a meeting with Ms. Andersson. Do you mind?!” the professor barked.

“I’ll wait,” he whispered as he pointed to the door and turned for it.

Elizabeth winked over her shoulder in response as she turned for their instructor’s desk and eyed Dean head to toe and back before looking away.

Oh, he was absolutely getting laid tonight.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, the door of the classroom burst open and Elizabeth strode into the hallway. “Fucking piece of shit.” The door slammed shut behind her with a jerk of her arm. “God, what a fucking asshole.”

Dean stood from the bench upon which he had slumped and approached her. “What’s going on? He didn’t…”

Elizabeth startled as though she had not seen him. “Dean?”

“I said I’d wait,” he said. “Did he try something in there?”

She bristled as a disgusted frown contorted her too-pretty face. “No. He’s just giving me a hard time. And not because he wants me to drop out of the program. He’s putting me through the ringer because he knows the industry. He’s prepping me for the real world. And I fucking hate it.”

“Well that’s bullshit,” Dean stated.

Elizabeth started down the hallway with a scoff. “No, he’s right.”

“Bullshit,” Dean repeated as he skipped a step to keep up with her. “No shop would ever treat a woman employee like shit if they wanted to keep her. And any shop worth their salt wants any employee they can get if they’re a half-decent mechanic.”

She rolled her eyes as she asked, “Oh, yeah? And how many shops have you worked in?”

“Five.”

She backpedaled at that. “Why are you in school now? You have way more experience.”

“Eh, those were just gigs to make some money,” he said. “I always wanted to go to school, but I never wanted to end up in debt for it. So, I’m a freshman that can buy his own booze.”

Her hearty chuckle filled the hallway, and Dean swore to himself that he would hear her laugh every day for the rest of his life. “Good,” she said. “I don’t want to have to buy you beer tonight.”

“Tonight?’ Dean asked.

She curled a lock of her blonde waves behind her ear. “Yeah. We’re going out tonight, right? Or did I read this entirely wrong? Are you g—”

“No!” Dean stuttered. “I mean… if the right guy came along, I wouldn’t turn him down, but I…” He paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. “Most women either wait for me to ask them out or turn me down immediately before I even tell them my name.”

“Well, the former group is oblivious, and the latter is fucking rude,” Elizabeth stated as though it were a fact. “I’m no idiot. I saw your jaw hit the floor in Professor Fuckface’s office when you looked at me. I’m surprised you didn’t ask me out then and there.”

Christ, what a breath of fresh air. No games, no frills. Just a night out with another mechanic. Dean pushed through the heavy door of the building and ushered Elizabeth into the setting spring sunlight. “What are you working on?’

Her entire face lit up brighter than any star he had ever seen. “My baby.”

“Oh?” he mused with a lilt to his voice. “What kinda baby?”

“Val,” she started. “A 1974 ‘Cuda. 426 hemi. White, matte black hood, black and tan interior.”

Dean gaped. “That’s… that’s huge.”

Elizabeth smirked. “That’s what she said. What about you, Winchester? What’s your project car?”

“Well, now I’m a little embarrassed to even say it,” he muttered as they descended the steps.

“Oh, c’mon, we’re not comparing dicks, they’re just cars. They’re all beautiful. Like tits,” she said as she motioned to her chest.

His laughter echoed through the quad as Dean clutched his stomach. “They kind of are, aren’t they? Never really thought of Baby that way.”

“Oh, Baby? I’m intrigued. What is she?” Elizabeth said.

“A 1967 Impala. 327. All black, black and tan interior,” Dean said with a wistful smile. “She belonged to my dad before I got her.”

Her smile fell as her hand, gentler than he had anticipated, warmed his shoulder. “Oh… oh no, I’m so sorry.”

“No! Don’t be, it’s alright,” Dean started. “It was a few years ago. Sam and I are working through it together. We’re okay.”

“What about… should I even ask?” Elizabeth started.

“Our mom died when we were kids,” he started. “I was four, Sam was six months.”

Silence descended on their walk, stretching uncomfortably as Dean struggled to find something else to say. He hadn’t thought about John in a few months. But there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think about Mary. And Sam, too. Though they were few, he had memories of the three of them, Sam just starting in on baby food, and Mary cutting up his food at the kitchen table. Tears blurred his vision unexpectedly, and Dean turned away, hoping Elizabeth hadn’t seen.

Maybe she had. Maybe she hadn’t. Either way, she was the smartest woman Dean had ever met. She walked with him, quiet and unassuming, giving him the space to be but for the warmth of her hand as it slipped into his. He squeezed it, harder than he had meant, but she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she squeezed back just as hard.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Yeah?” he choked.

“Would you like to just go back to my place and relax? I’ve got plenty of whiskey. No expectations. Just good company. Whatever happens, happens.”

He breathed a sigh of such profound relief, Elizabeth laughed, and Dean couldn’t help but laugh with her.

“That sounds perfect.”


End file.
